


Walk A Mile in Their Shoes

by jb_mar



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Body Swap, I thought it would be really funny to write this, M/M, The body swap AU no one asked for, the mighty nein - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-13 13:31:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14113392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jb_mar/pseuds/jb_mar
Summary: Jester's relationship with the group begins to grow and develop, however, in the process, she starts to unintentionally drift from The Traveller.To teach her a bit of a gentle lesson, The Traveller decides to play a trick on the Mighty Nein just days before an important reconnaissance mission for the Knights of Requital.The Body Swap AU no one asked for, however I've decided to write it anyway because I can't get the idea out of my mind.Spoilers for Ep 12!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my Widomauk discord server for proofreading this and helping me to work out the kinks in my idea! 
> 
> \- Jules

The thing about the Traveler was that Jester could never be sure when and where he was going to show up. Her mysterious friend lived up to his name, that Jester was sure of. He would wander from place to place, sometimes with her, sometimes not, and wherever he went, his mischief followed him. Jester remembered when she was little, she’d sit at her windowsill, looking out onto the busy market intersection below. Her little eyes filled with wonder as the voices and colors and the subtle smell of spices draped her in the familiarity of home. She’d watch the little street for hours and in her head, she’d imagine what kind of funny jokes she could make if she ever got a chance to go. The mean vendor on the corner who short changed all his customers? Jester had imagined his pants falling down and his melons toppling from the cart and rolling down the street like a stampede more times than she could count. The noblemen who trotted through the square, noses in the air? She drew pictures of them in her sketchbook, their faces blotchy and ugly, like they had been stung by a thousand bees. The Traveler visited her very little then, here and there in her dreams, but everytime she peered out her little window to the world, she’d find things to laugh at that she could attribute to him, little things like a meanie dropping their papers and having them blow off into the nearby fountain. That was The Traveler.

As Jester got older, the Traveler began to manifest himself more often. Jester could swear she saw him in the corner of her eye, just around the corner, standing hooded outside by the lamppost. After that, her pencils would go missing, her books would be out of order, her clothes inside out, and that’s when Jester was sure he was watching. She could smell him, as weird as it seemed, and he smelled like the woods, fresh air, the open road. His scent was part of what made Jester want to travel too, taking after the name she had given to the mysterious entity. When she finally was forced to pick up and leave Nicodranas, it wasn’t so much with a heavy heart as one that buzzed. Grounded, the tiefling moved with a determined skip in her step, her eyes on the horizon.

Jester’s solo journey took a rather unexpected turn quite quickly. The Traveler may have been Jester’s first friend, but there was something about her new group that excited her. Whether it was Molly’s sly smile and eyes riddled with mystery or Nott’s ability to constantly get herself into trouble or something else that drew her to the band of adventurers, she enjoyed their company, and most of them made for a good laugh from time to time. It was hard to believe only four months ago their fates had crossed in Trosstenwald. Since then, the group had managed to make quite a name for itself as the Mighty Nein, battling sewer monsters and rescuing children from gnoll mines, but most notably in the last few months, the group had been focusing their efforts on assisting the bubbling revolution in the town of Zadash. Countless recon missions and attempts to expose the current sitting corrupt officials had been a mixed bag of results, and most recently the party managed to worm their ally Dolan Thrym into the seat of the High Rictor. Now that one of their own was in a position of power, there may be some hope for their revolution after all. Not that Jester cares all that much, but the party seemed to function well together when they had a common goal. So long as Jester was getting paid for her troubles and was allowed to mess with authority along the way, she would be fine.

It was Molly who first suggested the idea of a gala. “If I were an overtly corrupt politician, I think the place I’d want to celebrate the downfall of someone that wasn’t me would be at a stupidly fancy party waving my money around in the air with other overtly corrupt politicians.” He had told the Nein before the meeting.

He was right, of course. Molly usually was when it came to stereotyping rich folk. The way his mouth crawled into a snarl at the end of the sentence made Jester laugh softly to herself. Molly loved to put on an act for the other Knights of Requital, watching them from afar, his pupiless eyes scanning over each member like a bug. Each new member of the group was taught to fear Mollymauk and his cryptic ways, which made it harder for Jester to keep up her own act because inwardly she was too busy giggling at the other tiefling. Sometimes, the two would stand next to each other in the corner, muttering in Infernal. “That guy over there looks like he’s going to piss himself.” Jester smirked as she tugged on the end of Molly’s gaudy coat, turning his attention towards a newcomer sat alone at a table, very obviously pretending not to notice the demonic pair as he sweated, taking a swig from his clear mug of pisspoor ale. 

“I bet you five silver I can get him to.” Molly hissed back, a smirk crossing his face, eyebrow raised. This was why Jester liked Molly. 

“Six silver.”

“Seven silver and a mug of something alcoholic.”

“Deal!” Jester flicked her forked tongue excitedly, grasping Molly’s purple hand in her blue.

Molly gave Jester a wink, smacking her hip lightly with his tail before turning his back to her, making his way over to the single table. Jester’s gaze followed her friend for a moment before getting distracted by Fjord and Beau at the bar halfway. Both the half- orc and the human were standing while speaking in hushed tones that Jester couldn’t hear if she tried. Their listeners were two figures nursing pints, one dwarf and one human. Jester could see the thought in their eyes from here, considering the plan they had come up with. A gala to honor the newly appointed Rictor Dolan would look unassuming, a celebration of an overturning of power, but their plan was a little more nuanced than just throw a simple party. A gathering of so many important political figures was imperative for rebels to gain access to information, blah, blah, blah, Jester didn’t remember much of what Caleb had explained to her of the plan beforehand, let alone understand it, but the others had the strategy part covered. All Jester had to do was stand guard with Nott and Molly and make sure no one was watching them, which as that thought crossed her mind she realized she had neglected to do. 

Jester looked to her sides, knowing she wouldn’t see Molly, but at least expecting to catch a glimpse of the little goblin girl at her feet. Glancing down, however, Nott was nowhere to be seen. Jester grimaced, turning to look through the crowded meeting room. Where had she gone… Jester smiled a little as she looked up into the rafters of the little inn, connecting with glowing yellow cat eyes. At first, she had assumed they had belonged to Frumpkin, Caleb’s familiar who he had been using to keep an eye on Beau and Fjord from an unsuspecting distance, but as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Jester watched as Nott licked her lips, her sharp green nails digging into the wooden planks, her eyes focused on the bejeweled hairclip of a nearby patron. Her legs were pulled next to her body, like a frog ready to leap onto the next pad. Jester caught a glimpse as well of Yasha and Caleb on the second floor, Caleb sat quietly in a chair, his back to the action below, while Yasha stood over him like a tree, sturdy and firm, guarding the wizard as he transferred his consciousness to his cat. Jester jumped suddenly as the ginger animal hopped up on her shoulder, beginning to purr in her ear as she scritched below his chin. “Good Flumpy…” She muttered with a cheerful chirp and she watched as from above Yasha gestured for her to stop distracting the wizard.

They made a pretty good team, Jester thought, as she watched her friends fall into place in her mind, the eccentric, the level headed one, the hot mess, the bookworm, etc. Even though she hadn’t known them for long, Jester loved them all very dearly, just as much as she loved The Traveler, who still liked to follow her around. The mysterious man was still very important in her life, however with all these new people, new responsibilities, Jester sometimes found it hard to pray to him every night like she would like to. Her sketchpad, usually full of doodles she thought The Traveler would like (as well as a few creative drawings of penises), was lined with sketches of her friends, Molly’s horns, Beau’s sick monk skills, Yasha ripping a monster in half with her bare hands. She hoped The Traveler liked her friends as much as she did.

Jester was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of footsteps, looking up to see Beauregard and Fjord heading her way. Her eyes lit up, her posture straightening. “So? What’s the news?” She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, excitedly clutching her hands to her chest as her tail swished back and forth in anticipation. 

Beau gave one of her signature gruff smiles, somewhere between a grin and a scowl. “Gala’s on. Dolan says it’ll be a good opportunity for us to learn some important information from people who otherwise wouldn’t give it up. Gotta give it to Molly, it was a smart as hell idea.”

As the phrase was halfway out of her lips, Molly was behind her, a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump. He flicked his own tongue close to her ear, like a teasing snake as she grimaced, pushing the tiefling off. “Never thought I’d live to see the day you called me smart,” Molly chuckled darkly, maneuvering around Beau and taking his spot back next to Jester. “Pay up.” He popped the P, jerking his head over to the poor man with now soaked trousers trying to cover his urine stains with a napkin. 

Jester snorted at that while Fjord shook his head. “Knock that off, you two! If we’re going to be leading something this important, we’ve got to be serious. There’s a lot at stake, for the town, for us. This is no time to be making grown men pee themselves, especially when they’re on our side.” The man reasoned.

Jester and Molly both stared at the floor for a second before a testing look stretched across Molly’s face. “Yes sir, from now on we’re normal, totally normal, normal teeth, normal claws, normal horns, normal devil’s blood pulsing through our veins, any other impossible feats you’d like us to perform while you’re at it?” Molly’s sass cut through steel.

Beau’s lips pursed. “You know that’s not what he meant, just be chill. If we’re going to start talking to diplomats, the first thing we’re going to need to learn how to do is-” Beau hesitated a moment, looking over both the tieflings, “You know… Be a little less… You.” 

“You mean you want us to talk to those jerks and try to find out if they’re colluding?” Molly asked, quizzically.

“Probably shouldn’t ask Yasha or Nott…” Jester muttered under her breath, biting a nail as she spoke.

“You do realize they could just lie, right? Lying is a really handy tool, I’ve lied most of my life and look where it got me.” Mollymauk spread his arms in a presentational manor and Jester wondered if that was true.

Later that night, after adding a series of new drawings into her book, a human man with a waterslide of pee rolling down his leg, a snooty, upper class woman getting shot in the neck with Nott’s crossbow, the seven gold she lost to Molly, the tiefling girl finally climbed into bed. Beau had passed out mere moments after they arrived in the room. Originally, Jester and Beau had been solely roommates, and while it had been nice just the two of them, once it had evolved into the girl’s room Jester actually began to like staying away from home. It gave her more to do, people to talk to, games to play. This particular night, she had braided Nott’s hair with blue paper flowers her mother had taught her to make at a young age, weaving them between the thin, greasy pieces. Yasha sat on the windowsill, the lightning illuminating her face and the thunder bellowed in the distance. From Jester’s view, Yasha almost looked peaceful for once. Jester smiled at that, taking one of her blankets and wrapping it around Yasha’s shoulders before crawling back beneath the sheets and drifting off herself.

 

Jester always dreamed of the forest. The scuttle of woodland creatures washed over her, the chatter of mice or squirrels distracting Jester as she sat in meditation below the large oak. Her face was worry free, no wrinkles, no stress, just sun warming her icy blue skin. Jester could feel the butterflies in her stomach aching to break free as her hands twiddled nervously. She had only been to this particular clearing in her woods a few times before, three namely. Each time, The Traveler visited, speaking to her in great detail about his goals, his power, his interest in her. She assumed he’d have something important to tell her tonight as she felt the wind blow through her hair, announcing his arrival. “Jester…” His voice was smooth, like a worn down pebble as he sang her name.

Jester beamed from ear to ear, her heart speeding up at the mere sight of his green cloak. “Traveler!” She scrambled to get to two feet, pressing down the wrinkles on her pretty dress. “Traveler, I have so much to tell you! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever! I’ve done so much with Nott and Caleb and Fjord and-” The Traveler cut her out with a gentle pat on the head.

“My child,” He chuckled lovingly, “You’re rambling again.” His voice was like molasses sticking to her and not letting go. Jester couldn’t see his face, but she assumed he was handsome. He sounded handsome from what he said now. It sent shivers up Jester’s spine, her over exaggerated smile turned into one of wonder. 

“I’m sorry.” The tiefling apologized, bowing her head. When she looked up, the Traveler’s arms were crossed, looking at her expectantly.

Jester was silent, confused for a moment. She looked over her shoulder to see if he could possibly be staring at someone else behind her before he took her wrist, turning her towards him once more. “Jester… Tonight was the first time in two weeks you’ve drawn to me.”

Jester’s heart dropped, looking the god up and down. “No... No that can't be right… I’m sure there are more drawings, for sure! I drew Yasha killing that gnoll, and-” 

“Two weeks ago.” The Traveler’s tone was sad, almost apologetic. 

Jester, flustered, dug her leatherbound book from her pack, “I drew Nott eating that dog leg, and Caleb and Molly getting it on and-” Jester stopped suddenly as she opened her book to the page before the one she had written on that night. Two weeks…

Jester’s face dropped a little, her tail going limp and brushing the grass in shame. “I’m sorry…” She muttered, unable to meet her friend’s eyes. “I guess I just got caught up in everything and-”

The Traveler cut her off with a wave of the hand. “Jester, dear, don’t apologize. I understand.”

“You do?” 

The Traveler chuckled lightly and a chill ran up Jester’s spine. “Of course I do. The problem is you’ve gotten distracted, dear Jester. We just need to cause a little mischief to get you back on the ball.”

“Mischief?” Jester’s eyes twinkled at the idea. “What did you have in mind?”

The Traveler smirked and Jester could see his eyes, glowing a brilliant vibrant green under the shadow of the hood. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it almost seemed predatory, like a snake. The voice of her god seemed calculated, cool. “Oh, I have quite a bit in mind. But, you don’t have to worry about it. I’ll take care of everything. All you need to do is sit back and enjoy the show.”

Jester narrowed her eyes, her hands playing at the hem of her dress, nervously. “What are you going to do…?” The Traveler very obviously wasn’t telling the tiefling the full story here, which admittedly did not make her feel extremely comfortable. 

The Traveler took a few steps closer to Jester and a warm feeling suddenly washed over her like molten chocolate. Her body relaxed with each inch closer, Jester closing her eyes. She felt a familiar hand entangle itself in the hair at the back of her head, pulling the girl close into a hug and giving her a caring kiss on the forehead. “Just a little trick. Just relax… This’ll be fun, I promise…”

 

As the lips of the Traveler moved away from her forehead, Jester sat up with a gasp, air filling her lungs. She reached up on instinct, her hand clapping over her chest, trying to still herself. The oxygen stung as it filled her stomach with a white fire. As Jester fought to catch her breath, the first odd thing she noticed was her placement in the room. Jester swore she had picked the top bunk… She looked at her feet dangling over the side of the bed and hovering just inches above the floor. Confused, Jester ran a hand through her hair in an attempt to regain her senses. Her fingers weaving through her oddly now curly hair, her ears perked up as she heard the faint sound of jingle bells in her ears. Jester jumped at the sound, swatting at it suddenly in an act of surprise. The motion caught on her horn, which alarmed Jester. She knew her own horns, they had never been that wide, never that broad. Jester’s heart nearly stopped as she slowly stood, analyzing the rest of her person, a horrible feeling beginning to blossom in the pit of her stomach. She let her hands wander, feeling up the ridges and grooves of the unfamiliar horns. Everything was off, the shape, the placement of the piercings… Jester swallowed a lump in her throat as she slowly moved her hands down to look at them. Her mouth went dry as she eyed up her digits, no longer a beautiful blue, but a soft purple, with long nails that could almost pass for claws, ornately designed with stripes and little glued on jewels, and on the back of the hand, the eyes of a realistically sketched snake stared back at her.

Jester’s breath caught once more as she ran for the full length mirror affixed to the back of the door. Her mind racing, the tiefling rubbed the sleep from her eyes to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. As her hands traced her body, she looked herself over from head to toe. “Traveler…” She muttered under her breath as the realization of what had happened washed over her. The tiefling covered her mouth, fighting to stifle a laugh of complete and utter shock as staring back at her in the mirror was none other than the lithe figure of Mollymauk, still donning his brown worker’s boots and his loud pants. Jester turned her head to the right, testing to see if the reflection would follow, which it did just as though the reflection was her own. As Jester curled her fingers and tail in and out, testing out the new body, she whipped around, hearing the voice of the Traveller echo through the back of her head. “Now this… This will be real fun…”


	2. Chapter 2

Jester had just about managed to push down her initial mortified reaction just as the door behind her opened with an urgent force. The candle light flickered for a second and in the doorway stood two figures, one medium sized, one small and scraggly. Beauregard entered into the dim light, her face uncharacteristically stern, Nott following her, oddly confidently for the usual demeanor of the little goblin girl, her head held high, her mouth curved into a peeved scowl. Jester watched as Beau’s eyes wandered over to Fjord’s bed, widening as she cleared her throat. “Molly, can you wake them up, please? We have a bit of a situation.” 

Jester blinked, staring blankly at them for a few seconds. Beau’s voice was too calm, too polite, especially for addressing who she supposed was Molly. Beau’s eyes widened at her hesitation. “Shit…” She muttered, a grimace to her, turning to Nott, who was already halfway scuttling over to Caleb.

Jester watched as the tiny goblin attempted to jump up onto the bed, overestimating her size and undershooting the jump, falling back to the floor with a growl of frustration. “C’mon!” The goblin spat, her little hands balled into little fists. 

At the noise, the wizard in the bed sat up slowly and lazily, stretching himself out like cat in the sun. He groaned, opening one eye and taking in the situation before him, his eyes landing on the Jester in Molly’s clothing and closing them once more, beginning to lay back. “Wow… I knew I got hammered last night, but I guess it was worse than I thought…” 

Caleb stopped mid movement as he shot up once more, eyes widening as his hand reached to his throat, running his thumb up and down his neck. “Huh…” He breathed, seemingly dumbfounded by the sound of his voice, “Well that is new…”

Caleb flinched as Frumpkin approached him warily, hissing at him. The wizard held up his hands, protecting his face from an inevitable scratch, when he suddenly noticed the fingerless gloves. Tentatively, she watched him touch his fingertips together, examining the pale skin. “Woah…” 

“Molly?” Nott’s voice was skeptical, testing the waters.

“I’d say “in the flesh” but that’s not quite true, is it?” Mollymauk’s tone of sarcasm was strange rolling off of Caleb’s Zimnian tongue. “But, since the flesh is right over there, let’s maybe ask it what in the hell’s going on?”

The attention in the room was turned to Jester as she laughed a little. “How should I know? What’s going on with you guys, you’re all acting weird.” She said, putting on her best Mollymauk act.

The group stared at her silently a moment, before she broke the tension. “I’m just kidding, it’s me, Jester. But I totally had you guys going for a second there!”

Molly opened his mouth as if to make some snide comment, but was cut off by a cry from Fjord’s top bunk. The party turned it’s attention towards the noise as Fjord was stood now on the top, his back pressed up against the wall, arms splayed and fingers grasping at drywall. The half-orc’s glare fell on the little goblin now perched next to Caleb’s/Molly’s head. “What is that thing?!” The voice that came from Fjord wasn’t his. It was straightlaced and foreign, but it came from his mouth, afraid and accusatory. “That’s an imposter! That’s not me, I’m over here, I’m-” Fjord stopped talking as he noticed his hands. “Oh god, I grew!”

Starting to understand the pattern now, whoever was inside Beau’s body rushed over to the half-orc, quickly trying to hush them and calm them down. “Nott, calm down! It’s Beau, it’s just Beau, and you didn’t grow, you’re me!”

The whole room spun as Jester sat down on the bed next to Molly and Beau. At the sound of Nott/Fjord’s screams, the door once again flew open, and in a strange out of body experience, Jester came face to face with herself. Her blue hair, her pink ribbons, but definitely not her standoffish posture, arms crossed, lips pouted. Yasha entered behind her, shoulders sunken and slumped over. “I suppose you’re all experiencing this too?” The Jester that wasn’t Jester spoke, her tone level, not happy. 

“Okay, okay, everybody calm down! Let’s just sit down and try to figure this out.” The levelheaded tone of Fjord almost felt fake coming from Beau’s usually brutish body, but everyone sat, a tension wafting through the air. “Now,” Fjord took a deep breath, looking over all of his companions, unsure of who to address as who “Does anyone have any idea what in hell is going on?!”

Silence fell over the band of adventurers as they all scanned each other. Slowly, Jester’s hand slid up, like a tree growing in slow motion. “Jester?” The group glared at her, almost expectantly. 

Jester was silent for a moment, fiddling with one of the pretty earings now affixed to her before muttering, “Well… I may have spoke with The Traveler and-”  
Hearing Nott swear at her was rather strange. Nott swore, sure, swore like a sailor if the situation warranted, but never directly at anyone, so when the blunt curse slipped from her mouth, Jester was a little taken aback. “What the fuck, Jester?!” The little goblin growled, pacing the floor, “What the actual fuck?! Your asshole god did this?!”

“He’s not an asshole!” Jester jumped to her feet, defensively, “He said I haven’t been writing to him as much as he wanted and he was bored! He wanted to have a little fun, and you have to admit,” Jester motioned around the room at her scowling crew, “This is pretty fun!”

Fjord groaned, massaging his eyes, stressed. “No, no, Jester, this isn’t fun, this is bad! We have the Gala in two days, and we have to lead the recon mission! How is Nott going to sneak around undetected when she looks like that?” Fjord looked over in Nott’s direction, but found himself unable to linger on his own body for too long. “Man, that’s so fuckin’ weird, I can’t even look at ‘er.”

“Jester,” The looming form of Yasha clasped a hand on her shoulder, “Can you not talk to your Traveler and possibly see if he can reverse this? He’s the one who put the spell on us, he can turn it back, ya?” Caleb’s broken common was distinct, Jester knew it was him as soon as she opened her mouth, leaving Beau and Yasha. Jester suspected by the quick to trigger aspect of the little goblin and the strangely stoic face of herself, she knew which was which. 

“Well, I can try to pray to him, but I don’t know how much he’d want to listen…” Jester pouted, suddenly finding the ground rather intriguing.   
“At the very least, you can try.”

Caleb’s nervous yet calming presence was out of place in Yasha’s form, but Jester sighed, nodding. “Fine. I’ll try and reach him tonight. But, I can’t promise anything, The Traveler does what the Traveler wants.”

“And if he can’t do anything?” The unfamiliar accent in the room when Nott spoke from Fjord’s voice was unsettling to say the least, as was watching Fjord shift nervously from foot to foot every time she opened her mouth to speak.

“Then…” Fjord paused to think for a moment. “Then we’ll figure something out.”

Jester could tell Fjord wasn’t totally sure on that, but kept her mouth shut.

 

Jester spent the rest of the night trying to contact her deity. She filled pages upon pages of notebook paper with detailed drawings and lengthy apologies, but The Traveler was as silent as a snowfall. By the time morning rolled around, Jester’s voice was hoarse from begging and her hands cramped. Defeated, the tiefling trudged down the stairs, frustration playing on her brow. She sat at a small table in the corner with Molly and Caleb, both uncomfortably twiddling their fingers, occasionally leaning over to the other to say a word or two. As Jester sauntered over, Molly slid her a cold mug of ale. “No dice?” He questioned, taking a sip of his own liquor.   
Jester shook her head, smiling slightly at the jangle of the metal crown above her head. “Nope… Do you think he’s angry with me?” Jester would admit, the seed of worry was planted in her mind the second the Traveller pulled her from her peaceful dream.

“Probably.” Molly elbowed Caleb hard the second he said it, which looked as though a mouse were scolding a mountain lion . “What? I’m just being realistic!”  
Molly pursed his lips, hunching over himself. “Don’t beat yourself up too much over this, Jes. We’re all just a little freaked, rightfully so. I mean, I’m sitting here at a table, inside by boyfriend- and not in a sexy way- having a conversation with my boyfriend inside my best friend -not in a sexy way- and my bubbly friend inside myself -not in a sexy way. It’s weird, you gotta admit.” The usual tiefling sighed, beginning to stand.

Caleb looked up, taken off guard by the suddenness of Molly’s movement. “And where are you going?” 

Molly turned back, a smirk plastered across his lips. “Well, one good thing did come from this whole thing. I can finally get you that tattoo I said would look so nice on you.” The words slid through his teeth with a devilish flick of the tongue and for a second Jester almost considered Caleb sexy until she reminded her brain it was Molly.

Caleb stood quickly, nearly falling out of his chair. “Mollymauk, don’t you dare do anything weird to my body!” He growled, voice firm and in charge.  
Molly chuckled. “Oh baby, I’ve done weirder things to your body before.”

The laugh was cut short by a short cry of pain as Caleb reached forward, grabbing Molly by the earlobe. “Ow! Hey, hey, I was kidding! I was kidding!”   
“You’re forgetting I’m the muscle now.” Caleb laughed, good naturedly.

For a moment, both looked as if they were going to lean in for a kiss, however Jester could see in both of their eyes the moment they realized how awkward that could be for Caleb, his mind kissing his body, and ended that motion before it even started. Jester sighed, playing with one of Molly’s dangling earrings once more. They made for good toys, and Jester wondered why she didn’t see Molly playfully swatting at them more often. Eventually the rest of the Nien joined them at their table, Fjord with Beau resting on his shoulder. “We went and talked to Pumat Sol about any kind of reversal potion,” Beau started, her little claws digging into her own shoulder, “As much as the dude freaks me out, he’s a pretty bright guy, but he says only a god can reverse a spell from the gods.”

“You didn’t tell him what happened to us, did you?” Jester was half busy cramming a donut into her face, but she spoke around sprinkles.

Fjord shook his head. “No, for some reason he really didn’t ask. He’s all ‘proposing the hypothetical’. I doubt he even cared.” As he spoke, he mocked Pumat’s turtle like tone, crossing his arms. 

Yasha clicked her tongue, bringing to attention in the room to where she stood, her arms crossed, glowering at the group. “Well then, what are we supposed to do?” In watching Yasha wear her skin, Jester realized she didn’t wear an intimidating gaze well. Her face was too soft, her clothes too bright.

Silence fell over the group as they looked to one another, sizing each other up. The wheels in each person’s mind began to spin, thinking in the few moments of pure planning. Fjord eventually sighed, hand to his forehead. “I think it would be best for us all to just, you know, keep going like nothing’s different. Whether we’re in our own bodies or not, this gala is going to go on. The Knights are expecting us to get in there, figure out what we need, and get out. We can’t let them down.”  
“But won’t they know something is wrong? I mean, my people skills aren’t great, and they’re especially not at Fjord’s level.” Nott wrung her hands, nervously.  
“And no offence Nott, but I’m not going to be kicking anything’s ass at this size.” Beau threw her hands to the side, indicating her tiny stature. 

“We’re just going to have to learn to get along a little differently for a bit, okay? You ever hear the saying ‘learn to walk a mile in another person’s shoes’? That’s just what we’re going to have to do here.” Fjord resigned, his eyes scanning the downtrodden troupe. “Obviously, it’s possible for all of us to be fighters and succeed. We just have to do our best to act like the person we’re portraying, act like nothing's wrong, keep our heads low and get what we need. Agreed?”

The Nein exchanged a glance before each nodding in their own time. “Good. Now, here’s the plan. Dolan is expecting Beau and I this afternoon at his house to discuss plans for sneaking us all into the gala. Nott and I will head over there in a few hours.” Jester watched as Nott stiffened, her eyes widening, beginning to protest before Fjord cut her off with the wave of a hand. “I’ll try and do as much talking as I can, but it’ll look a little suspicious when suddenly Beau is jabbering on, so you’re going to have to input a little at the very least.”

 

A few hours later, the Mighty Nein had broken off into their small groups. Nott trudged along beside Fjord, a sickened feeling welling up in her stomach, as if she had drank sour milk. Nott was very rarely an outspoken voice in the group, and had never been a voice of reason, but as she walked, her burly physique swaying from side to side like a ship, her heart pounded like a steel drum. Each footstep felt like concrete shoes and it didn’t help that Fjord seemed to be going over the plan in her ear the whole time. “Now, Dolan usually addresses me, so you’re going to have to act as close to me as you can get.” Fjord seemed nervous too, his hands anxiously tying and untying Beau’s blue sash.

“I… I can certainly try… But… But I don’t sound like...” Nott seemed skeptical, and Fjord winced as she spoke.

Nott had realized she didn’t sound like Fjord the second she had opened her mouth before. No one had really said anything, chalking it up to the weirdness of the day, but Nott was smarter than most people took her for. The sound wasn’t forcibly wrong, it wasn’t like something was caught in her throat. Nott would notice if something like that we’re affecting her. No, this voice wasn’t like Fjord’s at all. It was too pompous, too formal, too punctuated to be the half orc with the lazy drawl. Something about the voice was too natural to the body, and Nott could see it made Fjord uncomfortable. Every time she spoke, his skin would crawl, his face dropping and getting distant. His face curled into a grimace as he grabbed Nott by the arm suddenly, pulling her into an alley. “You don’t sound like me?” Fjord finished her sentence, raising an eyebrow. “Or you don’t sound like I usually do?”

Nott’s eyes widened, swallowing a lump in her throat as she stared down, a new concept for her, at the human below. “There’s a difference?” Nott cocked her head to the side slightly, trying to comprehend.

Fjord bit his lip, thinking a moment. “Look, if this is going to work, I’m going to need you to listen very carefully. Do you think you can do that?”

“I don’t know, Caleb says I’m very easily distracted, but I’m a pretty good learner!”

Fjord closed his eyes, going through his options in his head. “I suppose that’ll have to do.” Fjord was shifting again, unable to keep himself still and it made her uneasy. Nott had never seen Fjord like this before and it shook her slightly. “Nott, I may have been lying a little bit when it comes to a few things.”

“I knew it!” Nott’s accusatory tone reverberated through the alleyway. “I knew you were acting fishy! I told Caleb, I told him, I said ‘Fjord is acting fishy’, but did he listen to me? No! ‘Oh, don’t make trouble with Fjord, Nott.’ Don’t make trouble with Fjord my-!” Nott was cut off by a sudden hand clapping over her mouth, Fjord testingly eyeing her up.

“It’s not like you think,” Fjord started to clarify, “It’s not a bad thing really, it’s mainly for my own safety. Wasn’t intending on tricking you all, I swear. We’ve all got personal things following us, the accent is mine, and unfortunately now it’s yours too. For this to work, you’re going to have to bare with me, alright?”  
Fjord’s serious tone sent a shock up Nott’s spine as she nodded. Reluctantly, Fjord’s warm hand came away from her face. “Now, it’s all about the speed of your voice…” 

 

Horace and Dolan’s house was different in broad daylight. Still quaint, still tucked away, the little cottage near the edge of town stood as sturdy as ever. In light of recent events, this side of town was less affected than other plac87es, such as the Trispire and the Pentamarket. While some buildings in those two areas still stood, like Pumat’s and the Pillowtrove, most had been burned to cinders. The poorer district on the other hand had remained mostly untouched. Nott followed Fjord, her loud feet clomping along the pavement, her dialect lesson with the man playing over and over in her head. He had explained quite a bit, how to shape her vowels, where to put her tongue as she spoke. A lot of effort went into faking an accent, and Nott had to hand it to Fjord, it was difficult to keep the caydence for long periods of time. Her drawl was overdone, louder than Fjord’s, her Rs too long. Nott anxiously picked at her nail as they approached the door, Fjord reaching up and knocking twice, stopping a moment before reaching up and knocking three more times. Upon the third knock, the door slid open a crack and out popped the head of Horace, dressed in what looked to be raggedy house clothes. As his eyes settled on Fjord, the breath he seemed to be holding dissipated. “Oh good… You both made it…” He sighed, opening the door to let them in. 

Nott had seen it from the outside before, but never this close. The inside was full of usable furniture, worn out book covers, crumpled papers in the corner. Nott’s eyes scanned the vicinity for anything intriguing as Fjord started the conversation. “Yeah, well, we’ve got shit to do.” Fjord made a good Beau, her no nonsense attitude practically seeping through the skin.

Horace led the two to the quant kitchen, where Dolan sat, blueprints and forged documents spread across the circular table. As they entered, Dolan sighed, barely looking up from his work. “You’re late.” He muttered, obviously annoyed as he shoved a few quills onto the table.

“Sorry Dolan, got caught up in some official Mighty Nein business. You get it, don’tcha?” Oh no, here comes the banter, Nott thought, her teeth nearly chattering.  
Nott’s face was very near pale as she squeezed her nails into the palms of her hands, her teeth grinding against each other. Nott silently, nodded her head, agreeing, to which Dolan narrowed his eyes, but didn’t say anything. His body shifted, turning back to the maps on the table. “Of course, yes, I get it, but this is pretty important. I’ve managed to procure some blueprints of the gala hall that could aid us with sneaking in and out…”

 

Fjord and Dolan talked for quite some time about infrastructure while Nott perched in a rather uncomfortable armchair next to her companion. Nott had never really loved sitting normally, so this “acting like Fjord” thing was total torture. Once Jester summoned her god and Nott got her hands on The Traveler, she was personally going to kick his ass for this one. The goblin zoned out for more than half of the conversation, snapping back to for little phrases, such as “underground” and disguise. Her eyes scanned the shelves for something, anything good, eyes landing on a large clock above the mantel, beside it a jeweled statue. Her eyes widened, the sparkling object drawing her attention before a voice pulled her back out. “What do you think, Fjord?” Beau’s voice was deliberate, and Nott turned to face the group, Dolan and Horace watching her expectantly, Fjord with crossed arms and an angry expression across Beau’s face as he followed Nott’s gaze to the expensive trinket.  
Nott stood there silently a second before suddenly breaking into a coughing fit, trying to get her voice in the right placement that Fjord had taught her. Curl the tongue just slightly inward, draw out the continent sounds, savor every letter off her tongue. “Yes, I, uh, I think that’s a pretty darn fine idea!” The voice came out partially raspy, but she let loose a breath she didn’t realize she was holding as Fjord nodded his approval.

They didn’t speak for long after that, mainly to finalize details. Half the Mighty Nein would be social, the other half would be on guard duty, half scouting information, half scouting secret entrances to the Law Master’s office at the center of the town building. Since those strange wizards knocked down the largest tower in Zadash, security was bumped up in town and they would have to make sure they gained entry undetected to the party Dolan had convinced the Law Master to throw, as well as found their way into the Law Master’s office to confiscate any information they could find from her drawers. It wouldn’t be easy, but Dolan and Horace strangely enough seemed to have faith in them. Plans were discussed and tossed, and Nott even managed to pitch a few ideas of her own, much to the surprise of Fjord. “If we can get Nott to shimmy along some of that there piping,” She offered, pointing to a ventilation shaft displayed on blueprints, her false accent barely cracking, “She can get inside, rummage around a bit, take out any possible traps, and let the others inside.” Nott beamed as Dolan nodded at the idea.

As Fjord said his goodbyes to the two humans at the end of their rendezvous, Nott took one last look around the house, eyeing up the bedazzled statuette once more. Her heart pounded, feeling the itch crawling up into the tips of her fingers. Her breath hitched as time seemingly slowed down, eyes fixed on the thing just inches above her head. A golden goddess, with eyes of red rubies and wings encrusted with countless diamonds sparkled temptingly near her face. A sudden realization dawned on Nott. She wouldn’t need to sneak around or climb in order to reach the thing she wanted. If she so desired, the usually little goblin girl could just reach out and take the item like a book off a lower shelf. No need for dangerous jumps, for distractions, for sneaking. Just reaching out and plucking, stuffing it into Fjord’s bag. Her gaze melted with mischief. Her hands reached out without her consent, enthralled by the glittering masterpiece. 

The sound of a throat clearing behind her in the doorway stopped her cold. She spun on a dime to face Fjord, who was leaning against the doorframe, face hardened. “Looking for something?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Nott had gotten this look before. The look told her stop, the look told her don’t touch, the look told her put-that-thing-back-where-it-came-from-or-so-help-me. The look was not Nott’s favorite look. She gasped, pulling her hand back quickly. “I-” 

Fjord cut her off, hardening his glare. “Let’s just try and remember that deal we made, alright? Remember what Molly said?”

Nott closed her eyes, the memory flooding over her a wave. “Only steal from grumpy people?”

“Well, yes that.” Fjord’s tone was explanatory, like speaking to a child. “But there was one other thing. Don’t steal from people who need it more than you, remember? And number three, you don’t take from allies. You promised if you followed those rules when it came to stealing, we would help you keep yourself and Caleb alive, you got that?” Fjord was serious, closing Nott in towards the back wall. Her heart was in her throat. “These people? They’re our allies and they very clearly need it more than you.”

Nott’s eyes were suddenly parallel to the floor, her body still as Fjord growled. “I don’t need you getting caught being a thief in my body. I don’t want that kind of reputation…” He said under his breath as he turned his back on the goblin. “I’m not angry I just… We really don’t have time to deal with your itch right now. There’s more important things to deal with, and I don’t want anything happening to my body. So just play along and ignore the itch for once.” 

Something about Fjord’s tone as he exited the room made Nott feel like she swallowed stones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify a few things:
> 
> People who swapped bodies
> 
> Yasha in Jester  
> Jester in Molly  
> Beau in Nott  
> Fjord in Beau  
> Molly in Caleb  
> Caleb in Yasha  
> Nott in Fjord
> 
> The plan for the Gala:
> 
> The gala is being thrown in the Zadash town hall in two days. The MN are going to infiltrate the party, some will be socializing with the guests for information on the attackers of Zadash, some will be examining the building and mainly trying to find the Law Master's office for any info, and some will be look out. They are looking for notes on the people who attacked Zadash in Episode 12 and for just general proof of corruption. 
> 
> Just felt like I needed to clarify some things I didn't make 100% clear, sorry!! 
> 
> But seriously, thank you for reading!!!
> 
> \- Jules


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb, Molly and Jester get used to their new bodies on a cross city trek. Caleb and Molly share a moment in the sewers. Meanwhile, Beau and Yasha catch an unusual meeting outside their room.
> 
> Some Ep 14 spoilers!

Something no one tells you about muscle: It’s very heavy. Caleb found himself walking around with slumped shoulders in Yasha’s form. He felt as if he were wearing a shirt that was far too big, his arms dangling at his sides like swishing sleeves. Everything about being Yasha was strange and alien. From the broad shoulders to the tangled web of dreaded hair, Caleb felt like a right fish out of water. Nothing Caleb meshed with Yasha and nothing Yasha meshed with Caleb. Not even Frumpkin seemed to treat him the same, as once the little familiar had realized where the consciousness of his master had gone, the cat had scampered away into the shadows, and had been following him at a very close distance since. Even now, as Caleb glanced over his shoulder as they walked, he could see the glowing yellow eyes of his friend watching him. 

Caleb sighed, hand reaching up and tightening on the hilt of the glave on his back, trying to ground himself. See, the strangest thing about being in Yasha’s body was that her feet seemed to have a mind of their own. Each time the wizard would still, Yasha’s feet seemed to fight him, moving at least two steps more, three steps more, before finally grounding themselves, and when he finally forced himself to stand in place, that didn’t stop her body from shifting from leg to leg, itching to feel grass against her bare aasimar feet, sun on her all too pale skin. Caleb found himself wanting to run, to fight, to breathe wildly and jump up and reach for the pale grey sky overhead. This must be what it’s like to Yasha, Caleb thought as his inner clock continued to tick. 

The group continued on through the streets as Caleb tried to turn his attention back to the path at hand. On his left, Molly and Jester matched his pace. Jester’s hood was up, hiding Molly’s signature horns and jangly jewelry. The two walked close together, occasionally whispering something into the other’s ear as Jester caught more than a few eyes. Caleb watched them, the parrot and the peacock, chattering on to each other while Caleb kept an eye out on the sidelines. During their time together, it was obvious to even the most obtuse bystander that the tieflings had a very sibling like relationship, almost attached at the hip. Once, Molly told Caleb he found Jester’s naivety charming. Caleb wondered if he still felt that way now, knowing it was her god who had gotten them into this mess. While Caleb held no grudges against the bubbly cleric, something about her strange deity was off. In all of his studies, he had never once heard tell of any Traveller, and trickster gods from the woods, as Jester had once described him. Something about the way Jester described him rubbed Caleb the wrong way.

Caleb was stopped suddenly by Molly’s arm outstretched in front of him. He realized, as he came back to focus, that he had been zoning out in thought again, almost colliding head on with a wall. “Caleb, stop.” Molly’s tone was sharp and urgent, which was a strange contract to the sigh that came from his mouth as a pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Stop, stop, stop, you can’t just… No one’s going to believe you’re Yasha if you’re walking like… like that.” Molly said pointedly, gesturing to Caleb’s shoulders.

Self consciously, Caleb took a second to roll his shoulders back. “What’s wrong with walking like this? I walk like this every day.” 

Molly shook his head a little. “Nothing, darling, nothing’s wrong with walking like that, but it’s just not… Here, let me just…” 

Molly trailed off, examining the hulking body for a moment before he was at Caleb’s side, crouching down and tapping his knee with the back on his hand. “Move this out a little bit. Stand stronger, wider stance.” Molly ordered.

Caleb obeyed reluctantly and slightly confused as Molly grabbed both his hands, crossing his arms across his chest for him. “You’re positive I’m not going to look like an idiot?” Caleb muttered, letting Molly do his thing.

The lavender tiefling shot him a confident grin that made his heart skip a beat. “Of course not, mein snacks.” 

Caleb nearly snorted as the man before him butchered the term of endearment in his native tongue. “It’s _schatz_.” The wizard chuckled, smiling wholeheartedly at Mollymauk.

“Eh, I was close. Now, I need you to give me a scowl.” 

Caleb raised his eyebrow, but tried the look his had seen Yasha give many a time. From just behind Molly, Caleb heard a small giggle as Jester, who noticed the two had stopped, wandered over to catch the last bit of their conversation. “Caleb, he said a scowl, not look constipated.” Jester’s sense of humor truly reflected that of her god’s.

Caleb dropped the stance, shaking his head at the cleric trying to stomach more laugher. “Ha, ha, ha, very funny, ya? Molly, I told you, I look like an idiot.”

Molly grabbed his arm. “You don’t look like an idiot, it’s just not natural for you. You’re acting. You know, performing?” A grin stretched across Molly’s face as he indicated himself, “Lucky for you, I’m a master at contriving a persona. Had a lot of practice.”

While the tiefling was good a hiding it, there was something in his voice. Whether it was sadness or fear or resentment, Caleb couldn't quite tell, but he knew it was bitter and left a sour taste in his mouth. 

However, as Caleb watched Molly flash him an excited smile to cover whatever venerability shone through, Caleb realized Molly was being much more of a hypocrite than he let on. As out of body Caleb felt in Yasha, there was something about seeing his own skin move with the mannerisms of the showman that rubbed him the wrong way as well. Each gesture was pointed, each step a flourish. Caleb wasn't lavish, but Molly was. Caleb wasn't showy, but Molly was. Caleb wasn't beautiful, but Molly was. It wasn't just that, however, but as Molly continued to walk, Caleb took notice of each step like he was watching a ballet. The tiefling seemed to walk with a brusqueness that was different than his usual confident stride. He looked almost as though his skin was crawling with thousands of tiny bugs but he was trying to hide it. When Molly thought Caleb wasn’t looking, he would take a moment to try and brush off as much dirt from his skin as possible. He had already shed the wizard’s dirty old coat and had been opting for walking around in his much cleaner undergear, a simple billowing shirt and brown pants, still dirtcaked, but much less than his coat. Caleb hadn’t questioned this at first, assuming that Molly may not have been used to the texture, or more likely the smell, but there was something else about the way Molly wore his skin, something Caleb finally put his finger on as he watched Molly walk now, with the way a scritched his beard and arms. Molly was choking on his filth. 

Jester took the helm of the group, trotting along like a show horse in her new skin. Even though Molly’s flashy body was covered from horn tip to toe in an unassuming grey robe, Jester wore him like she belonged there, a fancy, jangly trickster in the streets. She lead the group to the entrance of the sewers. In front of the heavy grate, two Crownsguards conversed under their breath, arms crossed, eyes scanning the vicinity for any shady individuals. As one of their eyes caught Caleb’s, he blinked, pretending to rub dirt out of his eyes for a moment. “ _Scheisse_ …” Caleb muttered within earshot of the other two, lowering his head slightly. Since Dolan had infiltrated the High Richter's seat, it had been much simpler to worm their way around the city, however it looked as though something had fallen through with clearing the sewers, as here they were and there were the guards. “Now what?”

He watched Molly nervously shift from foot to foot, considering the options. Jester’s face lit up as she thought of something, a strangely tell all look on Molly’s usually smarmy grim. “Oh! I’ve got it! I’ll just-” Jester finished her hand movement with a flourish, looking to both her right and her left as her face suddenly fell. “Huh… That’s a little weird…”

“What were you trying to do?” Caleb’s heart nearly skipped a beat.

“Well, I was trying to invoke-” The tiefling stopped mid sentence. “Oh… Do you think…?”

“I do…” Molly trailed off, his fingers drumming on the side of his face in thought. “Here, let me just…”

At the snap of his fingers, Caleb watched as his thumb and middle finger ignited. Tiny flames tipped his fingers as Molly stared in awe. “Woah… This is incredible, Caleb!” Molly’s voice rose in his throat, excited at this sudden development of magic. His eyes twinkled with young wonder as he watched the little burning flames dance. “How does it do this without burning you? I always thought it burnt you!”

“It doesn’t.” Caleb chuckled at Molly’s childlike curiosity into his sudden burst of magical energy, but inside, Caleb could feel the panic bubbling. If Molly could use magic as him and Jester couldn’t as Molly, that had to mean one thing… Caleb found his hand reaching towards the giant sword once more, fingers twitching to swing it once he realized that was all he was good for here. He felt something at his core, something white, hot, angry, but he pushed it down. He didn’t know what it was, but this strange rogue feeling wasn’t about to fizzle over just yet. They had a plan to make. “We need a distraction…” Caleb muttered, peeking back around the corner to see where the pair were standing. Their uniforms twinkled in the broad daylight as the two of them spoke. 

Molly grabbed Caleb by the shoulder, pulling him back. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.”

“If this is anything like the hospital, I suggest you just give it up now.”

“It’s better than the hospital, I promise.” Molly said as he finished a familiar hand gesture with a magician like accuracy.

Everyone held their breath for a moment, unsure of what was to come, and honestly if Caleb hadn’t known what he was looking for, the faint plastic wrap like glimmer in front of them may have gone missed. Caleb had always enjoyed Schmidt’s company, even if he wasn’t much of a talker, but his presence here made the wizard crack a small smile. “Schmidt, my friend, it’s good to see you!”

If Molly still had his tail, Caleb imagined it would be twitching with excitement as he readied himself to command the magical entity. “Alright, friend, here’s the deal. We’ve got to get in there. Anything you can do to cause a distraction would be greatly appreciated.”

 

 

By the time the group got down to the sewers, Caleb almost wished they hadn’t. The Crownsguard were quickly distracted by a ruckus caused by Schmidt a few allies over, which had given himself, Molly and Jester the perfect opportunity to sneak down. Crossing into the Tri-Spire was always the most difficult part of any plan, as the sewers could be filled with rabid rats or giant spiders or gods know what else, and honestly Caleb didn’t usually enjoy wandering around in complete and utter darkness, however the moment they entered the dark tunnel, Caleb realized something he had never noticed before about Yasha. The giant woman let off a low source of radiant, golden light, shimmering slightly on the surface of her pale skin. Caleb’s eyes scanned his heavily scarred arms, huffing in surprise. He mentally took note, saving this knowledge for next time they were in a particularly dark environment for himself and Beauregard. 

The sewer was cold and damp, like it had been a thousand times before. As Caleb trudged through the murky water, Molly clung to his arm like a hair on a black jacket, blind and shaking. Caleb pursed his lips, watching the usually confident man reduced to a quivering mess. Caleb aided him along, keeping his voice low as he spoke low in his ear, Jester bounding too far ahead to notice. “Are you alright, Mollymauk?” Caleb muttered, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

Molly jumped suddenly, surprised by the voice so close to him. “I- Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just…” Molly swallowed something in his throat and immediately Caleb recognized the look behind his facade. 

“You feel smothered.” Caleb said in realization, his face softening. 

Molly cocked his head to the side a little, considering the word. “Smothered? Yeah, I guess that’s one way to put it…” 

“I understand.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You understand? This wouldn’t have anything to do with your episode in Alfield, now would it?”

Caleb sighed, and although Molly couldn’t see it in the near dark with his human eyes, Caleb shot him a warning glance. “No, actually, it was about, um, these bodies we’re in currently. It’s no great secret I’m not usually the muscle of the group. Being Yasha… It’s a little intimidating.”

Molly chuckled at that. “Yasha? Intimidating, really? I never would have guessed.”

“I’m serious. You know Yasha better than anyone here. The only thing she and I have in common is the fact that neither of us can talk to a person for over ten seconds without panicking.”

“You’re not the worst person I’ve ever had a conversation with. That honor goes to Beau.” The statement was meant to be a joke, but the tension between the two was thicker than cream.

Caleb let the silence stew for a moment, formulating his next phrase as they continued to walk. “Molly?” Caleb asked suddenly.

The other looked up, expectantly. Caleb now had to struggle to find the words flying through his mind. “Is this what you felt like?” He asked suddenly, his eyes refusing to meet the cerulean of his own.

The question was vague, simple enough, broad so it wouldn’t seem rude or direct, but narrow enough to the bloodhunter would know exactly what he was referring to. “Empty…” The word was a faint sigh in the back of his throat. 

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Caleb waited another few seconds.

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I’m just curious, I-”

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m just trying to think of the right words…”

The way Molly trailed off was strange, as though for the first time since Caleb had met him, he was speechless. He sighed, running a hand through greasy red hair. “When I woke up, I was an empty soul wandering around in some stranger’s skin. Now, my soul is full, and I’m here walking around in a lov-” Molly stopped the word mid sound “In your skin. I know who I am, I know who you are. I’m not scared like I was when I woke up, I’m not alone anymore.” 

Caleb took that in, pondering it for a moment. The pair continued in silence now, making their way after the bounding off Jester.

 

“This is stupid as hell.”

The sound of small metallic balls rolling across the wooden floor droned in Yasha’s ears as Beau complained. In her little goblin claws, she picked up a ball bearing, rolling it across the floor with an aggravated grunt. “How come everyone else gets to go out and do something important and we have to stay here?”

“Someone needs to watch over the rooms.” Yasha answered simply, feeling like a flower in a mid-winter storm as sat there in Jester’s colorful outfit.

Yasha had never really been one for bright colors. Their vibrancy made her pale skin and jet black hair stick out like a sore thumb, and honestly, they weren’t really her style anyway. The aasimar gravitated towards clothes that helped her to blend in with her tough as pavement persona she harbored, and she did it damn well. Most tended not to notice her unless she wanted them too, which didn’t bode well for the noticer if she did. Yasha was often like the wind, in one minute, out the next, which was why Yasha found it so hard to be in the body of the energetic tiefling.

With the goblin Beau perched on her shoulder, throwing ball bearings randomly at the passers-by who happened to cross under their window at the wrong time, Yasha realized how many eyes had wandered across the room to set eyes on the two of them, the devil child and the goblin girl muttering to one another in short tones. At first, Beau had forgotten to put on her mask, letting her yellow teeth flash a crowd of children as one bumped her shoulder. Yasha immediately made her put it on after that mistake forced them to seek shelter back in their rooms as grown adults searched the outside of the inn for them like they were criminals. 

As Beau concentrated on her aim, Yasha’s hands turned the pages of a vaguely familiar little journal, skimming the lines. Jester was a phenomenal artist, Yasha thought as she traced over one inky image with her finger. Even though Jester had given her permission to trace her journal for any clues the Traveller may have placed in there, the thoughts of the tiefling were still private when she wrote them, still her own, and while Yasha hadn’t known the blue menace for long, she knew enough about her to piece together some of her inner thoughts without actually going through and reading them.

The pictures did make the barbarian smile though. From elaborate and detailed portraits of each of the Mighty Nien, to colored in doodles of blue poop, something about the childlike wonder of the little tiefling made her smile. No wonder Molly liked her so much.

“Find anything yet?” Yasha had gotten used to Nott’ semi grading voice, she really had, except when it was used with a cadence that was so Beau she just needed to focus on something else.

Yasha shrugged. “Not much. A lot of doodles. You?”

“Nothing suspicious to report.”

Yasha paused a second, thinking about that. “You’re not even really paying attention, are you?”

“I’m paying _enough_ attention!” The goblin hissed, clarifying.

Yasha let out a small huff that could have been mistaken for a laugh, turning to look at the clearly uncomfortable Beauregard. It was funny, Yasha thought, Beau was usually so charmingly blunt and confident, a trait that Molly hated and Yasha herself found drew her to the girl, but in this body, she seemed so out of place. The way she moved in the unfamiliar body was almost laughable, as her shoulders were swung back, her chest puffed out, all while being less than half her usual height. The monk seemed almost itching to get out of this alien skin, and for once Yasha couldn’t blame her. Molly, Caleb and Jester had been making their way to the bookstore in the Trispire to see if they could find any information on reversing magic as powerful as this, but something in Yasha’s gut told her that was a waste of time. They needed to get to the root of the problem, needed to find this Traveller and set him straight. As she scanned through Jester’s scribbled lines of text however, she seemed to think this may have been a waste of time as well.

The barbarian closed the journal, moving closer to Beau. Peering out the window herself, her eyes widened as she took note of two hooded figures huddled together in the corner of the alley. Her face hardened, grabbing Beau by the scruff of her raggedy little outfit, pulling her back from the window. “So? Nothing shady, huh?” Yasha asked sarcastically “Those two must have just slipped your attention then?”

Beau looked at Yasha, slightly confused, before peering out the window once more, eyes falling on the shady individuals. “Shit… Those weren’t any of the people looking for us, were they? I don’t recognize them.”

“I can barely see them…” Yasha pointed out, trying her best to strain her eyes to make out any details under dark hoods.

Yasha and Beau silently watched from above. The words being spoken between the two were far too quiet to make out, their faces too obscure to read lips, but Yasha could tell they were talking by the way they moved. The figure whose back was pressed against the wall, arms crossed, constantly looked over the other one’s shoulder, making sure they weren’t being watched. The meeting went on for a few minutes as the two women watched, unnoticed from above. They seemed to exchange something, touching hands for a brief second, the one who’s back was facing the entrance looking over their shoulder as well. Yasha could have sworn she saw the gleam of a golden eye in the darkness. Just like that, the scene broke, and Yasha and Beau were starring again at the darkened alley, where two figures seemingly evaporated into mid air. “What was that?” Beau breathed into Yasha’s ear.

Yasha shook her head. “It was something.”

“Obviously.” Beau’s tone was like a staff to the chest.

Both exchanged a worried glance before Yasha decided it was best to close the blinds on the windows for now. As strange as that interaction was, they had more pressing things to attend to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!
> 
> I've had the worst writer's block so obviously, I was rushing a bit towards the end with the Beau and Yasha scene, sorry! I am really happy to finally get this posted though!! Thanks for sticking with me

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for the read! I really love the idea of The Traveller being like super ominous and loving to play tricks on Jester, sort of what I was going for here :) I'm not super happy with this, I know it isn't my best work, but I think I'm still trying to feel out Jester and this plot a bit, so I'll get better eventually cuz practice makes perfect! :) I'll try and get the second chapter up ASAP :)
> 
> \- Jules


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